Fiery Heart
by Dulcineia
Summary: Ana moves in town with her mother to get away from a messy past. Her cousin lives nearby and decides to take her under his wing. He even threatens his friends to stay away. Initially Christian's keen on obeying that request, he doesn't even like her, but then the thin line between hate and love gets blurry and he's not sure he'll be able to keep his promise anymore.


Anastasia moves in town with her mother to run away from a messy incident and start anew in a different place. Her cousin lives nearby and decides to take her under his wing and protect her from everything and everyone. He wants to spare her from any kind of hurt, and so, given his mission, he threatens his friends to stay away. They're known by their long list of casual flings and Ana's cousin doesn't want her to be part of it. Initially Christian's keen on obeying that request, he doesn't even like her, but after a while the thin line between hate and love gets all blurry and he's not sure he'll be able to keep his promise anymore.

**It's rated M for later chapters.**

* * *

**1. **

**First rule of Fight Club is: Keep your hands off my cousin!**

**Christian's P.O.V.**

"I've got to go." Lucas breathed, throwing his cigarette to the floor and crushing it with the heel of his foot. "My aunt's moving in today. I got help her out." If his tone was any indication, that wasn't something he was interested in doing. Still he grabbed the chair's arms and gained enough impulse to jump to his feet.

"Did you mommy ordered you to do that?" Charles cooed batting his eyelashes like a stupidly annoying child. I chuckled at that.

If Lucas was bothered or offended by the implications of that question, he didn't show it in the slightest, instead he simply shrugged and picked up his fallen jacket. "Yep. And she threatened to cut off my balls too, if I didn't show up."

At that, both Charles and I, started laughing. "Did she actually say that?" I asked with a quirked brow. I knew Claire and she was just too much of a southern belle to swear like that, but she was definitely menacing enough to force her son into doing her wills.

Lucas gave a chuckle too and shook his head. "No, but she implied it."

"Well then, save your precious jewels." Charles said with a wink. We all laugh at that and Lucas walked out of the garage soon after it.

We always hang out at Charles's garage. It was spacious enough for us to be sprawled wherever we wanted, secluded enough to provide us the privacy we wished and distant enough from the rest of the world. Just the way I liked to spend my lazy afternoons.

My remaining friend passed me another beer and I just raised it in the air pretending to have a toast. "To the survivors, whose parent's can't control." I said quietly with a smirk plastered on my face.

"Hell yeah!" Charles cheered, bumping both his bottle and hand into mine, way too forcefully.

"Hey!" I warned him with a low yelp. "I have a fight tomorrow. Control yourself."

"Sorry man," He gave a sheepish smile and I knew he hadn't meant to be so aggressive. That was just the way Charles was. Too strong, too vocal, too forthcoming, too oblivious to what surrounded him. He didn't have the full notion of the extent of his actions most of the time, but he was my friend nonetheless, and I knew he got my back. Just like I got his.

"What is your plan?" He asked all of a sudden.

I frowned and shifted on my spot. "What do you mean?"

"I mean when we finish high-school. What will you do?" I was a bit thrown off guard at the seriousness of his tone and his choice of topic. I stood quiet for a while contemplating his words. "Will you keep fighting?" He pushed further.

I leaned against my chair and closed my eyes. "I don't know." I answered truthfully. "I don't know what I'll do." I was surprised at the pain in my voice. I really didn't know what I'd do with myself once I was graduated. So far I've been street fighting to earn money, but was that what I truly wanted to do for the rest of my life? No, I didn't want that. I wanted something more. Something bigger. But I simply didn't know what or how to get there.

It was complicated enough to deal with my actual problems without thinking of the future. That just aggravated things to a whole new level. And I wasn't sure I was ready it for it yet.

Charles nodded as if understanding. For a while we stood in silence, gazing at random objects, sipping our beers, hearing our breathings, thinking things through. I didn't know how long it passed but my friend was the first to break the silence. He turned to me and looked me dead in the eyes.

"You're brilliant, man. You can do whatever you want." His tone was once again serious and grave. I knew he meant what he said and a confusion of thoughts arose in my mind. I felt glad to have his support, disappointed in not being able to plan my future properly, sad that I _could_ become like my father.

It wasn't everyday people told me I was capable of something. Normally I was praised by my looks or feared by my fighting skills but I wasn't used to be comforted. My father was my only relative and he wasn't proud in anything I did. Actually he wasn't proud in me, _period_. Somehow my mere existence caused him pain and so he felt the need to do the same to me as often as he could. My life at home was bordering on despairing. I never complaint about that, but both Charles and Lucas knew about the difficulties I was under and helped in whatever they could. I was grateful for that. The same way I was grateful for Charles's words right now.

I sifted in my seat and looked away from him hoping he wouldn't notice how much that touched me inside. I hated showing emotions. I hated to appear weak.

So instead of saying what was really on my soul, I just shrugged and kept quiet.

"I believe in you bro." Charles said, and as un-masculine as that was, I felt something constrict in my chest.

* * *

I threw the punch and faintly heard the crowd go wild. My name was being cheered from every direction and the noise was just a mass of undefined shouts. I shook my head to keep my focus. My opponent threw himself at me, his body limp and tired, I managed to deflect his move and hooking my fist right under his chin, I gave a final push and craved it into his skin. His head ricocheted back and forth in a brusque and violent way, and after a little staggering, he fell flat on the floor.

Immediately some guy playing referee stepped onto clandestine ring and grabbed my arm throwing it in the air and waving it madly. I snatched it from his grip. Everyone present could tell I had won, there was no point in flaunting around the place with my hand in the air, showing what was obvious.

I glanced at the man on the floor. He was probably on his early-twenties and was most likely an university student trying to get some cash to pay his bills. Whenever I was fighting all cognitive activity seemed to abandon me and an instinctive need of survival swept through my body, I would stop thinking and all I'd see was the fatality of the match. It was a way to let some steam blow, a way to deal with my never-ending rage. It felt good, if only for a moment, but afterwards a sense of guilt washed through me.

I knew I hadn't forced myself on anyone. I knew every opponent I had faced was there out of his freewill. And yet looking down at them, sprawling on the floor, coughing blood and barely seeing straight, always left a bad taste on my mouth.

I shrugged those thoughts away though, and waved at the roaring crowd. People were still there, still cheering for me, still expecting to see blood. _More blood_. I guess human nature is a funny thing.

"Congratulations dude!" The referee guy said slapping my back kindly. "You're officially a legend around the pit."

I started at him for a while, then shrugged and said my thanks. Before he could say something more, I backed away and went to the locker-rooms. They weren't really locker-rooms. They were just some old restrooms equipped with some improvised lockers and some benches. I was at the pit, as the referee had put it, and that was the name of an underground ring that held illegal fights. It was situated in an abandoned factory at the outskirts of town. Every weekend there were fights and occasionally some also happened during week days.

As I tried to clean myself in the rusty, impromptu shower space, I thought back at what the guy said. _'You're officially a legend around the pit'_ I couldn't help but smirk at that. I was now a legend because this had been my 20th victorious fight. It was a new record around here. And it was mine. As depraved as it was, I was proud of myself.

I washed my sweaty body, dressed a dark t-shirt and jeans, threw my jacket on and walked out of the building. Just when I was arriving at the parking lot, Lucas appeared out of the some hallway and grinned at me.

"Christian!" He yelled, already wasted. His arms extended and before I could duck, he gave me a hug and a kiss on my temple. "That's my baby!" He said with a slurry voice and a mocking tone. I laughed at that and tried to shrug away from his embrace. He didn't bulge though, and stood there, grabbing me and ruffling my hair. "A freaking legend!"

"Yeah… Well, what can I say?" I complied when he finally let me go.

"Nothing. Don't say anything. Let's just drink our faces off." He was grinning like a maniac and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I think you're already halfway through."

"Perhaps," Lucas slurred. "But we need to celebrate!"

"I don't know." I admitted truthfully. Like usual, someone was throwing a party after the fights, somewhere in the city. I often went with my friends but lately I just hadn't felt the right disposition for it.

"Oh, common man!" He whined rather lamely. "Don't be a party pooper."

I raised my eyebrows. "_A party pooper?_ What are you, twelve?"

Lucas laughed uncontrollably at that and I just kept staring at him, slightly in awe of how drunk he really was. For such a big guy, he had very low tolerance towards alcohol. "Who cares?" He panted after a while. "You just have to come with us, dude."

I pondered my options. Either I went to this party with my friends or I went home. Home wasn't a very cozy spot to be at, and I often avoided go there unless absolutely necessary. I sighed and nodded with me head. "Sure, let's go." I finally agreed.

Lucas clapped his hand and called out for Charles. We stood there, on the poorly-lightened hallway for a good five minutes, before Charles decided to appear. He had lipstick all smeared on his face and I couldn't help but tease him.

"That color looks good on you." I said winking at him. "Brings out your eyes."

Once again, Lucas found that incredibly funny, and just stood there clutching his stomach and gasping for air. Charles simply grunted something, swore under his breath, and tried to clean the mess he had plastered on his face.

"Is it out yet?" He asked after trying to rub it off.

"Not really," I answered honestly. "Who's it from, anyway?"

"Fuck," Charles growled and then just shrugged and accepted defeat towards the lipstick stains. "Some new girl, I think."

We both heard a dramatic gasp and turned to stare at Lucas whose eyes were wild and almost bulging out of their orbits. "_New girl_!?" He asked frenetically. "What new girl?"

I glanced between him and Charles, furrowing my brows in confusion. "I don't know. Just some new girl." My friend answered with a look of uncertainty that matched my own.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Lucas pushed the subject, straightening his spine and gazing directly at him. "How can you not know? She's new where? In town? In school? In the pit?" His voice was bordering on desperate now and I took a step forward planting myself on the middle of them.

"Hey," I said placing a hand on Lucas's shoulder. "What's the matter man?"

"Yeah," Charles breathed, walking towards my side and taking a defensive position. "What's the problem?"

"Just answer me!" Lucas demanded.

Charles looked stupefied at me but complied with our friend's request. "I don't know. I've never seen her. Not here, not in town nor at school. I don't even know her name."

"Fucking Christ!" Lucas threw his hands in the air and then shoved them forcefully onto his hair. "You ate half of her face off and you don't know her name?"

"I was too busy to ask her."

"Fuck Lucas!" I shouted after a while. I was sick of him pacing around the space, looking shocked and nauseated at the same time. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He finally stopped. And then ran his hand one last time through his face. His shoulders slumped. "What was she like?"

Again Charles grunted and inhaled deeply. He was getting fed up with the interrogation and I, honestly, couldn't blame him. Regardless of his feelings, he answered. "Normal height, nice curves, pretty face. Dark blonde hair, light eyes, some…" Lucas didn't allow him to finish, he let out a relived breath and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Dark blonde hair?"

"Dark blonde, light brown… I don't fucking know!" Charles shouted exasperated.

"Thank god!" Lucas muttered and then hugged Charles the same way he had done to be before and kissed both of his cheeks.

"Would you care to explain now?" I insisted coldly. I hated not knowing things.

"My cousin." Lucas started with a small smile of happiness on his lips. "She's new in town."

Both Charles and I stood there, unblinkingly, trying to grasp the meaning of his words. We couldn't quite seem the logic so he continued with his explanation. "You know, my aunt who moved here yesterday. She has a daughter our age. Ana is new in town too. I was just making sure it wasn't her."

"Okay." I drawled. "What if it was?"

Lucas took a step back and assumed a defensive stance. "I don't want her to be corrupted by Charles's depraved ways! She's not ready for that."

I frowned but Charles simply chuckled. "I though you said she was our age. How couldn't she be ready? Is she some kind of southern debutant like your mother?" He asked with an amused tone.

Lucas shook his head. "No, no, she didn't even live in the south. It's just… It's complicated." He was about to back down and walk towards the parking lot when he stopped suddenly and turned to us, a finger raised and a threatening expression on his eyes. "Don't ever try anything with my cousin. Both of you."

His posture was quite comical so we all laughed at that. "We don't even know what your cousin's like." Charles pointed out.

"And if it's up to me, you'll never know either."

The two of us simply grinned wickedly and decided to let the subject pass. We saluted Lucas in mock and saved all of our teasing for another time. Clearly this meant a lot to him.

And if he was that keen on keeping his cousin away from us, maybe we should make it a rule.


End file.
